


Winter Nights and Starry Skies

by Cân Cennau (cancennau)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nostalgia, Snow, Space Kink, Trans Newton Geiszler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancennau/pseuds/C%C3%A2n%20Cennau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann ponders on why he likes Newt so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Nights and Starry Skies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [moona-mcjune-a](http://moona-mcjune-a.tumblr.com/) for the PacRim Holiday swap. Happy Yuletide!

The problem with living by the sea was that snow never stuck, if it ever came at all.

Hermann could count on one hand how many times it had snowed in the Shatterdome. Each one had come punctuated by an utter lack of productivity as the entire Dome went out onto the landing strip to enjoy it. Even he, cajoled by Newton, would step outside and feel the feather-light touches of the snow falling, even if he hated being wet. Only one year had any snow stuck, and everyone had pitched in to make a very stately foot-high snowman, and took selfies with it for the rest of the afternoon. Newt still had their selfie pasted above his computer monitor.

It was nothing like the Bavarian snow back in Germany. Hermann didn’t suppose anything could really live up to that - waking up in the morning to snow covered mountains and icicle glazed windows, driving down the snowy lane to school and waving at all the snowmen, each adorned with various coloured oven mitts… It was quite something to behold. And then the nights, when the snow filled clouds would drift away, leaving bright clear skies and glittering snowy slopes. The entire family would troop up the nearest hill, Father carrying Bastien, Mother carrying hot chocolate and doughnuts, and Dietrich and Karla pulling himself up on the sled. And there they would watch the stars glitter in the cosmos, Father telling them all about planets and parsecs but all Hermann could focus on was that deep feeling of adoration every time he looked up at the stars.

Hermann had told Newton this once, the last time it had snowed at the Shatterdome. Curled up in Hermann’s overly warm room under a mound of duvets, Hermann could remember how Newt’s eyes sparkled in wonder as Hermann described his childhood winters, of drinking hot chocolate on the hillside and being pushed down it in the sled with Bastien in his lap, and how the arm wrapped around his waist tightened briefly when he talked about never being able to go there now the family was split. 

He didn’t miss it. Not anymore, at least. Newt had filled that gap for him. He’d never tell the other man how the freckles and acne on his back from his binder blossomed into constellations far greater than those in the sky, or how the crunch in his hair from the hair gel was far more satisfying than the crunch of freshly fallen snow. Newt’s ramblings about kaiju and their origins reminded him of the lectures his father gave, and Hermann always listened on with a helpless bittersweet feeling in his chest. Their arguments were like the rush of biting cold wind and headlong exhilaration of being pushed down a snowy mountain at far too high a speed and crashing into a cold snow bank, the apologies the blankets by the fire as they warmed up again back home.

And at night, Newt’s body reminded him of the plush snow and mountainous landscape of home. His kisses were like sweet hot chocolate, often coated with sugar with whatever he’d been snaffling before bed, but ever so warm and inviting. His eyes shone in the darkness, speckled with a thousand stars all different shades of green, and Hermann could easily get lost in them. He wasn’t sure if Newt realised he smiled when he kissed, but he did, a tiny, sweet expression of his feelings pressed against Hermann’s lips, and Hermann could not help the complete and utter feeling of adoration that gripped his gut and refused to let go. 

Newt was the personification of winter nights and starry skies, and Hermann could not help but marvel at the fact that he was here, in Hermann’s arms, for every season of the year.

 


End file.
